


"dick stew" sounds like a pretty metal song title

by snailwitch



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Fisting, M/M, Power Bottom, Witty Banter, a big ole box of dildoes, gay shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 09:33:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4055104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snailwitch/pseuds/snailwitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>not making eye contact and pushing it out his lungs as fast as pickles had ever heard him speak, nathan said “okayyeahiwantyoutofistme,” and then paused and said in a small voice “because uh, you have the smallest hands, um, in the. uh. band.” another pause. “YOUR HANDS ARE SMALL.”</p><p>basically nathan discovers anal fisting n deems it metal as Fuck<br/>this is in lowercase because somehow i write better this way</p>
            </blockquote>





	"dick stew" sounds like a pretty metal song title

**Author's Note:**

> oh boy do i like writing powerbottom nathan

the whole mess- and yeah, it’s a mess- started like most things do around mordhaus, with nathan going from zero to three thousand in about half a second, a deep-throated “WHOAAAAAA” accompanying it and turning on some of the closer scream-activated lighting. if it wasn’t so shocking it’d be a cool effect, but instead it halved the life expectancies of a few already-compromised klokateers and made the haus appear to be a disco ball from the outside.

 

nathan explosion, you see, had just discovered that anal fisting was a thing.

 

he paused the video running on his laptop and scrabbled for his dethphone, trying to scrabble for it in a way that would minimize injury. he stared at its screen for a second trying to figure out who the hell to tell this new information to, decided on pickles -“he’s old, he’s done gay shit in the past, maybe he knows more about this stuff than this porno does”- and typed a quick message for him to get his ass over to the singer’s room.

 

while nathan waited for a knock on the door, he turned back to the computer, whose screen had gone to sleep, and jiggled the mouse. when the screen cleared he was met with a still frame of a man, on his back with his knees to his chest, giving the most ridiculous face, teeth clenched and eyes rolling back. the reason for this reaction, of course, was the other man in the frame, whose hand was buried in the first guy’s ass. 

 

nathan couldn’t tear his eyes away. he knew logically that this was probably the gayest thing he’d seen in possibly his entire life, that he probably shouldn’t have clicked on an unfamiliar porn listing just to see what it was, that he should close the tab immediately and carry on with his natural life. but. _but._

 

he couldn’t tell himself it wasn’t metal, brutal, even awesome. having it done _to_ you seemed a little gay, but doing it to someone was a different story altogether. he was about to consider how he could incorporate it into dethklok’s next show- fisting pyrotechnics?- when pickles knocked on the door.

 

“what’s up?” he asked upon being let in, looking around nathan’s room, affirming the little things- the gargoyles perched on the corners of the room, the enormous bed, the plush blood red rugs, the desk tucked into a corner. “didja do something different with the decor or…?”

 

“pickles. you’ve gotta see this.” nathan beckoned the drummer over to the desk, pressed play on the video, and watched as pickles went from relaxed to apprehensive to somewhat horrified as the porn played on. he hit the spacebar just before the guy bottoming came and said “isn’t that like, the most metal thing you’ve ever seen? i didn’t even know it was a thing until half an hour ago and like now i’m upset about it because that shit is gonna be songwriting inspiration for _months_.”

 

pickles blinked once, twice. “what the feck, nathan.” he mashed the heels of his hands into his eyes, rubbing gently. “why the hell would you call me all the way across mordhaus to watch a fackin anal fisting video. i feel like i gotta bathe in bleach, jesus christ.”

 

“but pickles. you gotta imagine the song titles. ‘punched sphincter.’ ‘fisted by satan.’ this is the like, third most metal thing i’ve seen in my fucking life.”

 

the drummer sighed. “je- _sus_. nathan i know you think this is brutal and all but hasn’t it also occurred to you that this is incredibly, like _screamingly_ gay?”

 

“wait, you haven’t done this?” 

 

“of fuckin course not, do you see how much of a stretch that is? you’d have to train for feckin weeks!” 

 

neither of them knew this at the time, but that statement set off a tiny spark somewhere deep in nathan’s brain that would stay lit, slowly growing bigger as time passed, slowly burning hotter and hotter until, months later, nathan asked pickles to meet him after breakfast in his room.

 

they’d just finished an enormous pile of french toast, so it was a slow walk across the grounds of the haus before they both collapsed onto nathan’s bed. “holy shit that was tasty,” said pickles, eyes closed and dreads splayed across the comforter. “i can like, feel my body leechin out all the nutrients.”

 

“hehehe, _sick,_ ” laughed nathan, hands folded over his stomach. 

 

there was a bit of companionable silence before nathan broke it abruptly and asked “so remember when we were talking about, like, anal fisting?”

 

pickles almost puked. “holy christ don’t fuckin spring that topic on me when i’m so fuckin full a food!”

 

“oh, right. sorry.”

 

“jest gimme a minute to get my bearings,” said the drummer, and scooted an arm up over his eyes. he was quiet for a minute, and nathan fell into the same vaguely-meditative digestion state.

 

“okay. you got my attention about stickin stuff in somebody’s ass. what’s up.”

 

“so you know how you’d, uh, said that if you wanted to do it successfully you’d have to train for like, a really long time?”

 

the gears in pickles’ mind were already turning but he said “yeah, sure,” anyway.

 

“well it turns out there’s like, real good instructions on the internet. to uh. do that.”

 

pickles pulled his arm off from over his eyes and sat up so he could look down at nathan, who was urgently refusing to make eye contact. “dood. did you do what i think you did?”

 

nathan stayed silent. “holy sheet. you did. you fuckin… how the hell did you do it though? it’s not like we have a bunch of dildoes lyin around the haus or anything,” said pickles, then followed nathan’s gaze over to his closet. there was a lock on the door.

 

“no way,” he said. 

 

and then, “can i like, see the hardware?”

 

nathan grunted an assent and got up, lumbered over to the closet, and unlocked it with the keypad. pickles was surprised he wasn’t immediately buried in an avalanche of dildos, but instead nathan reached up to the shelf above the clothes rack and retrieved a pair of shoeboxes.

 

“this box,” he said, shaking the one in his right hand (it rattled) “was, uh, for the first month, and this one,” -he shook the other, which rattled a little bit more ominously-“was for the second.” he sat down on the bed next to pickles, whose interest was now pretty highly piqued.

 

nathan opened the first box and pickles was greeted with a pile of butt plugs, all of differing sizes, the largest maybe an inch and a half at the widest. there were a few empty bottles of lube in there too, and what he could’ve sworn was a bullet vibrator. he didn’t care enough to ask. “it’s actually kind of an easy process. you just, like, get used to everything at your own pace,” rumbled nathan, shrugging his shoulders. “like, it’s kind of a fun personal challenge i guess. once you get past that the challenge is, uh, in your ass.”

 

“huh,” said pickles. “what’s in the other box? more plugs?”

 

nathan blushed. “uhh, according to, um, the internet, you gotta switch from plugs at some point. so uh nah. they’re, uh. dicks. or at least dick-shaped.”

 

pickles rolled his eyes and opened the second box. “oh! oh wow. that is a lotta silicone.” he stared at the seeming abyss of black silicone phalli. “can i, uh, pick one up? are they clean?” he paused a second. “have any of these recently been in your ass?”

 

“uh. no. and besides, they’re silicone so like, you can boil them to clean them. which is also pretty metal,” said nathan, still not making eye contact with the drummer, “because uh, it’s basically a disembodied dick stew. which is a great fuckin song name. i’ve been trying to write lyrics for it for like, a week now. dick stew.”

 

pickles grabbed one of the more impressively sized ones and waggled it around, watching it flop like a horrifying jello mold. “dick stew. huh. i woulda never guessed you’d draw inspiration from _this_.” he smacked nathan’s shoulder with it.

 

“ow!” said nathan. “it’s heavy!”

 

“hehe, sorry.”

 

for a while, pickles fiddled with the dildos in the box, smacking them against his hand, nathan’s face (which resulted in a tussle and pickles getting pinned, yelling “UNCLE!” until he promised not to repeat the action), the bed, cackling the whole time. “dude, though, why’d you tell me about this all?” he finally asked, breaching the question with a glorious inelegance. “do you want _me_ to do the honours of stickin my arm in your ass?”

 

nathan said nothing, which made pickles drop the enormous silicone cock he’d been holding onto the tiled floor with a wet slap. “okay you gotta say something cause you know i take your silence as a yes most of the time,” he said, suddenly a little afraid.

 

not making eye contact and pushing it out his lungs as fast as pickles had ever heard him speak, nathan said “okayyeahiwantyoutofistme,” and then paused and said in a small voice “because uh, you have the smallest hands, um, in the. uh. band.” another pause. “YOUR HANDS ARE SMALL.”

 

pickles looked at nathan and then at his hands and then back at nathan, taken aback. his hands weren’t _that_ small. they were heavily calloused and kinda gnarled-looking, to boot. “dude, are you serious?”

 

“yeah,” grunted nathan. “if you don’t uh, want to, that’s fine though. i just thought it’d be like, good inspiration. or something.” 

 

“dude i know this isn’t about inspiration. you just really want someone’s fist in your ass.”

 

no answer. nathan was now obviously trying to look as far away from pickles’ face as possible.

 

“…does it feel good?” 

 

“…yeah. really good.” still no eye contact. pickles moved closer to the singer on the bed, grabbed his shoulder.

 

“i’ll do it,” he said. “just don’t tell _anybody_.”

 

nathan sat up. “do you think i’d want to tell anyone about this shit? it’s gay as hell! gayer than murderface’s weird repressed shit!”

 

“well i’m glad we’re in agreement there,” said pickles, smirking. 

 

“shut up, it’s not like you never sucked a cock when you were in snakes n barrels,” 

 

“oof, ya cut me deep.”

 

finally the frontman made eye contact, and pickles became aware of a weird tension that he’d felt precious few times. “aw dude… dude. d’you want me to kiss you?”

 

nathan looked uncomfortable for a split second, then relaxed. “i mean, if we’re going to uh, the gayest place possible, might as well make some, like, stops on the way,” he muttered, and then pickles was leaning in and nathan’s hands were curling around his shoulders.

 

the kiss was gross and messy and had way too much teeth for either of their liking, but pickles could feel nathan’s fingers digging into his back and hauling him closer, could hear a low rumbling sound coming from his chest, could feel some stray hairs silky on his cheek. he decided that kissing nathan was pretty cool, all things considered, and that a swing back to maybe taking some dude groupies home once in a while might be warranted. 

 

he was jerked back into the present by nathan breaking the kiss and whispering “ugh, fuck it,” before gently kissing and biting down pickles’ neck.

 

“hauuugh god, nate,” he groaned, stretching to give him more room to work, “bite my ears, bite my e-aaaaahhhh!”

 

nathan had his teeth gently nipping the shell of pickles’ ear, his breath heavy, face flushed. “is that- did you-“

 

“yeah please don’t stop holy shit,” said pickles in one long word, and then nathan was sucking on his earlobe, gently biting at it, and pickles shook and let a languid moan out. he could feel the fluorescent blush rising under his skin, hot and insistent, much like something else that was starting to tent his pants.

 

nathan kissed back down pickles’ neck and upon reaching his shirt fairly ripped it off him, nipping at the drummer’s collarbones. “nate. nate. you gotta take your shirt off too, jesus christ,” said pickles, and the singer did as he was asked before going straight back to his ministrations. “fuck, let me _see_ you,” pickles started, and then nathan was scooting back, pulling the smaller man onto him, laying out flat on the bed.

 

pickles paused a second, taking in the flush on high cheekbones, the powerful chest and shoulders, the dark hair, soft and thrown across the mattress. “what the _hell_ nate, you’re hot!” 

 

“oh my god fuck you,” he rumbled, hands ghosting over pickles’ shoulders, resting on his hips, pressing the drummer’s weight down. pickles grinned and leaned forward to kiss nathan again, this time with less teeth and more softness, feeling more than hearing nathan’s moans of assent. he moved to get at nathan’s neck, his shoulder, and suddenly lost his train of thought because nathan was grinding up against him. 

 

“oh my _god,_ ” whined pickles. he scrabbled to undo his fly, to grind down against nathan at the same time, but then the singer was batting his hands away and doing it all for him. pickles got up for a second and kicked off his jeans and then, after making eye contact with nathan and seeing him nod, his boxers. nathan shucked his jeans, and pickles had to stifle a yell of “your dick is HUGE what the FUCK” so he didn’t ruin the mood. or maybe that would help it, he wasn’t sure. all he was sure of was that he was straddling nathan again, holding both their dicks in his hand, and listening to the bigger man make the most delicious noises he’d ever heard.

 

they were sweaty and flushed and aching to come when nathan told pickles to stop, panting. “you gotta… uh, go get some lube,” he muttered, then “are you really sure about this?”

 

“nate, it’s _your_ ass, not mine. are _you_ sure?” pickles said, getting off the bed and digging through nathan’s bedside table. “should i get some gloves too?”

 

“yeah,” he said, and then “i’m sure,” and then “holy shit this is going to be _awesome_.” 

 

pickles laughed as he came back to the bed, his dick wagging in front of him like some sort of perverse metronome. “get on your stomach,” he said, “unless you want to be on your back? i dunno what you want.”

 

“i’ll uh. stay on my back. makes it easier for you to see how i’m feeling, i think.”

 

“fair enough, dude.” pickles pulled on the pair of black gloves he’d found, relishing the snap as he let go of the material. “so how do i start? just like, with fingers?”

 

nathan grunted and nodded, busy pulling a pillow up to prop his head against. “you don’t have to take it too slow cause i’m used to it, but like, don’t punch me.”

 

“i promise i won’t punch yer ass,” laughed pickles, patting nathan’s inner thigh comfortingly. “i’ll be gentle.”

 

nathan rolled his eyes. “thanks. i guess.”

 

the drummer took the bottle of lube he’d retrieved and drizzled a pretty hefty amount on his fingers, rubbing them together to warm it a little before very gently, very slowly, circling nathan’s hole. “this okay?”

 

“yeah,” he answered. nathan’s full attention was on what pickles was doing, and as the smaller man started to push a finger inside him he gripped the sheets a little tighter. “you can, uh, add another finger, please,” he grunted out.

 

“shit, dude, you really _have_ been practicing,” muttered pickles, slowly pushing in a second finger, then when nathan nodded, a third. he started curling his fingers up, searching for the prostate, and watched nathan reflexively close his eyes and moan loud and low when he hit it. 

 

“ffffuck,” he rasped out between his teeth. “you ready for another?”

 

“y-yeah. god. do that thing with your fingers ag-aaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!”

 

pickles smirked and pushed his fingers in further, watching nathan’s ass take them near-effortlessly and watching his face contort into a myriad of expressions. he curled his fingers again and watched the bigger man’s eyes immediately roll back, his hands gripping so tight at the sheets pickles was a little afraid they might rip. “damn, dude. you really do like this, huh?”

 

nathan wasn’t really in a state to answer, just to shake and groan lowly, his dick dripping precome on his belly. 

 

“should i go for the whole hand?” asked the smaller man, and nathan nodded, eyes trying to refocus, hands letting the sheets free. 

 

“god, this is gay,” he muttered, but as pickles added more lube to his gloved hand and pushed the entire thing in, his eyes went wide and he sucked in a huge breath of air. 

 

pickles stopped. “whoa, did i go too fast? you okay?”

 

“yeah holy SHIT am i okay,” nathan huffed. “maybe, uh—ahhh oh my god— a little, uh, overwhelmed-“

 

he didn’t get to finish his sentence because pickles was moving his hand, slowly, gently, and the stretch of it and rub of the motion against his prostate made his cock jerk and his mouth make sounds of its own accord, loud screams of moans that had pickles fighting to keep himself from stroking himself with the same rhythm of his hand’s movements in nathan’s ass. he curled his fingers, began to move his hand in earnest, quick fast movements that had nathan hoarsely screaming before abruptly clenching around pickles’ hand and coming harder than pickles had seen pretty much anyone come, thick spurts splattering his chest, the sheets. 

 

the big man’s limbs relaxed and pickles took the opportunity to gently extract his hand from nathan’s ass, peeling off the glove and chucking it across the room. “nathan. hey.”

 

“hewhhat?” he slurred.

 

“can uh, you get me off real quick?”

 

“that’s gay,” nathan said, but his hand was around pickles’ cock, warm and rough, and pickles barely had time to collect himself before he was noticing how unfocused nathan’s green eyes were, how undone and languid he looked, how his chest rose and fell with slowing breaths. he came into nathan’s hand with a shout, panting raggedly, and let himself down next to the larger man with halting movements.

 

“thanks,” he said, and then “how’re you doing?”

 

nathan sighed a blissful breath, then turned pickles’ face to his and kissed him. “i’m doing, uh, pretty well,” he said, eyes half lidded, dopey smile on his face. “i kinda wanna take a nap though. you in?”

 

“is it too gay for me to say i’m only in if you cuddle me?”

 

“it’s a little gay, but uh, i’ll allow it.” said nathan, pulling the drummer closer. “thanks for the favour.”

 

“don’t mention it,” pickles said, and he was going to follow it up with something snarkier but nathan had already drifted off, big hands holding him close.

 

before he followed nathan’s lead, pickles decided he was _definitely_ going to mix it up with his groupies from now on.

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
